


When you fall, I fall

by Secretsofdreams



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, POV John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, slight Johnlock if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretsofdreams/pseuds/Secretsofdreams
Summary: Drabble: Six months after Sherlock fell, John waits for his friend to come home.





	

Six months since Sherlock had fallen and John could still believe it was yesterday. Some days, the worst days, he thought he would open his eyes and see his best friend laying dead in front of him. People, mostly doctors, said he would move past this and would move on, and yet John had already gone through every stage of grief and was still waiting for Sherlock to come back for him.

He'd turned into a recluse, stuck here in this dingy old flat with the ratty sofa and the damp. His gun still sat in the top drawer, clean and ready for use. Sometimes he would take it out and, as he held it, John swore he could hear that deep baritone voice in his ear, _"the game is on!"_

  
On his better days, he'd go out and look for a decent job and maybe call Lestrade, if he was feeling up to it. These days were few and far between, and although he had a sneaky suspicion that Mycroft was putting money in his account, John still remained unemployed and his friend's hadn't heard from him in quite a while.

John took another sip of whisky as the radio began to play a song he'd heard many times before -it was the reason he listened to this channel every day. Whilst the music played, he would stare at the empty chair in front of him and imagine Sherlock sitting there, smiling back at him with his hands tucked underneath his chin. When he was drunk enough, the imagining would become more real and John often found himself talking to Sherlock, believing that he was really there.

"It's six months today Sherlock, and you've still not come back for me," the whisky bottle slipped through his fingers and fell onto the floor, the liquid soaking the carpet. "I'll be waiting if you want to come back home." John stared harder at the empty chair, as if he was begging Sherlock to hear him, then with a sigh he fell back and began to sing along to the song on the radio, the one which reminded him of his fallen friend.

_You took my hand and I began to breathe_   
_the pain began to fade, and my heart was stitched at the seams_   
_I've never felt like life could mean anything_   
_until you picked me up and fixed my wings_

_You're the only one who cared, the one who was there_   
_When I was lost and scared_   
_Now I'm facing a road, that I'll have to go down alone_   
_When you've passed into the stars with the setting sun_

_Please stay one more day and I'll never ask for more_   
_Let me see your smile when you walk through my door_   
_Let your heart beat stronger, so you'll last a little longer_   
_If I have to go a day without you_   
_I'll fall_

_Holding on to you, you're the only one who knew_   
_How it felt to crash and burn and still move on to something new_   
_Every word you said took away the fear_   
_As I began to bleed you helped me heal_

_If I have to lay down these roses on a stone_   
_It wouldn't be right for who I've come to know_   
_If I could only tell you everything that was ever in my head_   
_But I think you already knew when you fixed me up instead_

_Please stay one more day and I'll never ask for more_   
_Let me see your smile when you walk through my door_   
_Let your heart beat stronger, so you'll last a little longer_   
_If I have to go a day without you_   
_I'll fall_


End file.
